The Little Things
by M. L. Ayala
Summary: Companion/Sequel to "One of Those Days". Belle is back with Rumplestiltskin, and lots of things have changed since she left the Dark Castle and they were sent to Storybrooke. But is it all as different as it seems?


This is the sequel to One of Those Days, told more from Belle's perspective.

A big thank you to my best friend, who edited the first half of this story for me and gave me the superglue idea.

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~_It is, after all, the little things that count._~

Belle awoke to sunlight streaming in the window through pale yellow curtains. She sat up and looked around uncertainly before she remembered where she was. Had it really only been yesterday that she'd escaped from that dungeon of a hospital? She still didn't understand how it had happened. As she laid back down slowly, she let her mind wander to the events of the previous day.

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One minute her door had been locked, and then it wasn't. She had crept over to it and peered down the hallway, expecting some sort of trap, and was surprised to find it completely empty. It had taken less than a second for her to make up her mind before she darted towards the exit. There was no one sitting at the desk at the end of the hallway, which made her pause. _Something's not right, _she thought_, someone should be trying to stop me … they've never let their guard down before, why now?_

The door that led to the rest of hospital stuck when she pushed on it, and Belle panicked. _No, no no! It can't be locked!_ This was just another one of the queens cruel games, letting her think she could escape, only to stop her at the last minute. _I have to get out! I have to…_ She threw her full weight against the door and it popped open. She took a deep, shaky breath and slipped through the opening.

The sterile white of the room stunned her, it was so different from the cinderblocks and dim lights she was used to seeing. And the people … she hadn't seen so many people in ages. There really weren't that many people in the hospital, but the fact that they were new faces lifted her spirits. The only people that she had seen were the queen and a handful of hospital staff who, once upon a time, had been guards in the queen's dungeons and torture chambers.

Belle spotted a doctor's coat hanging on a rack near the front desk and snatched it as she made her way out the door. She saw people from her past, but none of them looked right, and she kept her distance from them. Something had happened, she'd known that since the cold stone walls had given way to cement, and her tatter gown had changed to the odd shirt and pants she now wore under the doctor's coat. But now, standing out in the main street of town, she saw just how much had changed.

The main street of town was filled with people greeting each other by names that weren't their own. Their clothes were so different from what she was used to, although she'd expected that based on her time in the hospital. She wanted to ask someone what had happened, but all that had gotten her before were blank stares and needles pumping sedatives into her, to the point where she couldn't tell up from down. No, asking for information was out of the question, since no one seemed to notice anything wrong. _There has to be someone here who remembers…_

Just as she thought this, she glanced over at the building labeled _Granny's Diner_ and gasped. His hair was different, straight now, and his skin had lost the green-gold scaly look. He used a cane, leaning heavily on it as he walked with a pronounced limp. That look that spoke of mischief and tricks was absent. In its place was one of pure misery and anger. There was very little to suggest that he had anything in common with his former self. And yet … the hint of sorrow that would sometimes appear around his eyes (usually when he talked about his on, but there had been other times) was there. _Rumplestiltskin…_

He set off down the street, averting his gaze whenever someone walked by and eventually made his way to one of the buildings further down the street. _Gold's Pawn Shop_. Belle followed him discreetly, and watched through the window as he went into a back room. She couldn't decide what to do. It was definitely him, no doubt about that, but there was no indication that he remembered, even the slightest bit. She turned away from the window, trying to think of some way to approach him. A flash of red caught her eye and she smiled, studying the scene before her. A flower stand was set up a little way down the street, and a brilliant red rose stood out, just begging her in to take it. She felt a little guilty for stealing, but there was no one at the stand, and she had no money anyway.

When she went to open the door to the shop she hesitated, seeing the little bell attached to the door to warn of someone's entry. Belle pushed the door open very slowly, careful not to make any noise, and closed the door just as carefully behind her. Now that she was in the shop, she was more uncertain than ever. A little voice in the back of her mind warned her that this was not the right time to speak to him. She crept forward and laid the rose down on the counter. As she stepped back, she noticed an envelope on the counter addressed to a Mr. Gold. The street name was one that she hadn't seen on the signs outside, and she realized that this must be his home address. _Perhaps that would be a better place to speak with him…_

She must have made some noise that alerted him to her presence, because she heard his footsteps and the sound of his cane hitting the floor as he came back to the front. Belle ran for the door, throwing it open and dashing down the street. She wasn't ready to face him just yet, and she had a feeling that he wasn't ready to see her either. She had seen the dark look on his face, the look that had warned her to stay away on previous occasions, the look that meant he was trying to forget. She wondered if his spinning wheel was hidden in that back room.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Belle still hadn't found the street that she was looking for, and she was starting to feel nervous. The more time she spent wandering the streets increased the chance that someone would find her and take her back to the hospital. She was already getting strange looks from some of the people out on the street. Belle was ready to turn back to the shop and give up her search when a boy suddenly appeared in front of her.

"Hi," he smiled up at her, "I haven't seen you around here before, do you live in Storybrooke?"

Belle hesitated, studying him. He seemed innocent enough, and something about him made her feel more at ease. "You could say that," she answered.

"Are you sure, because you look kind of lost," he raised one eyebrow.

"I don't get out much. Hey, maybe you can help me," she told him the street name that she was looking for. "Do you know where that is?"

"Sure. It's about two blocks that way," he nodded in the direction that she had been walking. "Why're you going over there?"

"Just … visiting a friend."

"Oh, okay. Well I better go, my mom will be looking for me. I'll see you around," he smiled again as he turned and walked away.

"Thank you," Belle called after him, then turned and started walking at a brisk pace down the street.

Once she got to the street, she didn't have to check the house numbers, she knew immediately which house was his. _Of course his house is the biggest on the street_. Belle walked up the sidewalk to the front door. When she tried to open it she found it locked. _Maybe the back door then… _She climbed over the fence, not without some difficulty, and reached for the handle on the back door. It opened easily. _Typical Rumple, she thought, he thinks that no one is brave enough to try the back door._

Belle walked in and closed the door behind her, then started looking around. She was in a large kitchen, which would have been nice if there wasn't a stack of dirty dishes and a thin layer of dirt over every exposed surface. The other rooms weren't in much better shape. _Looks like I've got my work cut out for me_.

A few hours late, Belle had finally managed to make it upstairs. The first story of the house was much cleaner than it had been, but there was still more to be done. That could wait until later, she had decided. Now she needed to find something else to wear besides her hospital garb. All of his clothes were the wrong size for her, she couldn't find anything that would work. With an exasperated sigh she pulled a trunk from the back of his closet. It was similar to the one that she had found his son's clothes in when they were at the Dark Castle. Belle smiled sadly and ran her hand over the trunk's lid. _I really shouldn't…_ She moved to push it back into the closet, then stopped. _Maybe just a quick peek…_

Belle gasped when the trunk's lid fell back, revealing the gold fabric beneath. _My dress…_ She lifted it out of the trunk, the silky material unfolding and flowing out, light bouncing off of the brilliant gold. _It's not practical for cleaning, but it will be good to wear something of mine for a change._ She quickly changed into the dress and went back downstairs to search for something to cook for dinner.

Her earlier examination of the kitchen had revealed a shocking lack of food. The cupboards were almost bare, and what few things she did find were not fit to be eaten. A more in depth search led her to a back room that wasn't completely hopeless, and she began to feel more at ease. _Really, this isn't all that different from the state that the Dark Castle was in when I arrived. A few days from now I'll have this place looking like new. That is … if he let's me stay that long_. She shook her head to clear away the doubts that had sprung up in her mind.

A short while later, she had gotten the hang of using the stove and found where the tea was stashed. She moved into the dining room to find a tea set and some plates so that she could set the table. There weren't very many to choose from, and she wondered what had happened to the fancy dishes they had used at the Castle. When Belle turned to one of the display cases, a slow smile spread across her face. A chipped cup, _their_ chipped cup, held the place of honor behind the protective glass.

_He remembers. He has to remember_, she thought, looking towards the windows where the sun was setting. What little uncertainty and fear she had about facing him melted away.

It was nearly nine o'clock when Belle heard the front door open. A few moments passed and she didn't hear any more from the front rooms, which made her nervous. _Is he upset about something that I did?_ she wondered. The tea kettle's whistle made her jump, and she busied herself with setting the last few things on the table. The soft tap of a cane on the hard wood floor told her that he was coming toward the kitchen. Her back was toward him when he reached the door, but she could see his reflection in the silver tea kettle.

He gaped at her back, eyes wide, as he struggled to find words. She was only able to hear a few of the words that he managed to whisper. "...lost my mind…" He looked like he was about to collapse, he was shaking so badly. _Oh, Rumplestiltskin, what has happened to you?_

She felt the need to reassure him, to turn and run to him, but she knew she had to do this slowly. She whispered in a gentle voice, "You haven't lost your mind," she let her words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "I hope you don't mind, I found the dress while I was looking around upstairs, and it was really the only thing that would fit me. Besides, it did belong to me, did it not?" She couldn't help but smile at the slightly guilty look that crossed his face before his expression went back to shocked. "It took me quite some time to find where you'd stashed the food. I would have had dinner finished if not for that." His expression shifted, and now he looked ready to bolt. Belle turned just enough to look at him over her shoulder and gave him a warm smile. "Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to set down and have some tea?" She spun around completely and held out the delicate china cup to him. "Rumplestiltskin?"

His cane clattered to the ground and he limped across the kitchen to her. When she felt his trembling hands wrap around hers, she had to fight back tears. Her smile was what he needed now, not her tears. Several minutes passed as Rumple tried to steady himself.

"Belle … how -"

"She interrupted him with a shake of her head. "Now is not the time for that story." She guided him to a chair and once he was seated, she moved to the chair across from him. "Now is the time to eat. We'll talk after." He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving her face.

After they were finished, Belle stacked the dishes in the sink and moved off to one of the rooms she had seen earlier. There was a pair of leather arm chairs and a large leather couch arranged in a half circle around a fireplace. She curled up on one end of the couch and smiled at him, waiting to see where he would sit. He seemed to be debating whether to sit in one of the chairs or next to her on the couch. He finally decided on the chair, and she tried not to let her disappointment show.

"Well, dearie, I think you have quite a bit to tell me," he tried to keep his tone light, but there was a note of sorrow in his voice. "Where have you been all this time?"

She rearranged herself with a sigh and tried to find a good place to begin her tale. "After I left the castle, I traveled for a while before returning to my father's kingdom. It was nice, seeing so many new places. I even had a few adventures, out there on my own," she gave him a mischievous look as she said this.

"I think those stories are best saved for another time," he chuckled at the glint in her eyes, but sobered when he asked, "What happened when you got home?"

Belle looked away, trying to think of a way to tell the rest of her story that would minimize the pain that went with it. She couldn't come up with anything that would work, so she tried to leave out the details as much as possible. The initial shunning, the isolation, the torture, each new horror that she mentioned only made his expression darken, but he didn't seem surprised by any of it.

It wasn't until she told him how the queen had come to take her off her father's hands that he lost his calm. "I should have known!" he snarled as he paced around the room. Belle watched as he regained his composure enough to return to his seat. "Go on, what else did she do?" The cold fury in Rumple's eyes did nothing to reassure her. She'd seen that look before, and knew that it wouldn't be good for the queen the next time Rumplestiltskin saw her. Belle finished her tale quickly, not wanting to dwell on her time as the queen's prisoner any longer than she had to. They sat in silence as he thought about everything she had told him.

"Now it's your turn," she said, leaning towards him eagerly. "Tell me what's happened. What is this place and why are we here?"

"I think that that is a story best left for tomorrow, dearie," his voice was soft and low when he spoke, so different from the harsh, high pitched sound she was used to hearing from him. "It's quite late; you must be tired." He stood and gestured for her to follow him. Belle jumped up and caught his hand in her own as they walked toward the stairs. This contact seemed to startle him, and Belle was reminded of what she had said just before she'd kissed him. _Since then you've loved no one, and no one has loved you…_

They stopped outside the door to one of the guest rooms and he opened the door for her. "This should do for now. In the morning we'll see if we can find some more clothes for you. Good night, Belle," he started down the hallway, having forgotten that she still held his hand. She pulled him back, kissed him lightly on the cheek, then released his hand and stepped into her room, the door closing gently behind her.

She wasn't certain, but she had a feeling that he'd stood by her door for some time before he finally moved on to his own room.

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Belle smiled at the warm yellow walls, trying to decide whether or not she felt ready to get out of bed. She felt blissfully warm, warmer than she had in a long time.

Several minutes passed when she caught the scent of cinnamon drifting up from downstairs. She pushed the blankets back and stood up, looking around the room. There was a neat stack of clothes just inside the door and she couldn't help but laugh just a bit at this. He was being overly cautious, stopping at the doorway instead of entering and leaving the clothes on the dresser.

She found a blue sundress folded neatly on top of the other clothes and was reminded of another blue dress that he had given her so long ago. A few minutes later she had put on the dress and ran her fingers through her unruly mass of curls, trying to tame it down into some sort of manageable shape. She gave up when she saw that she had only made it worse and made her way downstairs.

In the kitchen, a plate of cinnamon rolls waited for her on the table next to a large cup of tea. Rumple was no where to be found. Belle rolled her eyes and sat down, taking a sip of her tea.

She was almost finished her breakfast when he finally appeared, standing hesitatingly in the doorway, as if this was her house and he the guest. Belle found this hard to believe, and she was suddenly struck by how different he really was. It wasn't just his change in appearance. He seemed much more subdued and spoke in a softer tone than he used to. Without his curse affecting him, his voice had lost that high pitch, and she hadn't heard that manic giggle accent his speech, as it often had. She couldn't decide whether or not she liked these changes, and she studied him as he settled across the table from her.

"Thank you for breakfast," she smiled gently at him, "and for the clothes."

"Yes, well, ball gowns aren't exactly practical in this world." He hadn't met her eyes at all since entering the room.

"Speaking of which," she set down her cup of tea and folded her hands in her lap, "I think it's time you tell me what happened." She waited until he looked up at her. There was a look in his eyes that she knew very well, an expression of such extreme innocence that it would make even the most trusting person suspicious. _Oh, so you had something to do with it. Why am I now surprised._ She raised one eyebrow and waited for him to begin, trying to be as patient as possible.

He began slowly at first, halting every few words and mumbling through certain parts of his narrative. Belle could tell whenever he tried to omit something, and she would stop him and make him fill in the gaps. This felt oddly reminiscent of all of the time she had tried to get him to tell her of his life before, while they were in the Dark Castle. It took some time for him to finish his tale, and she often interrupted him to ask questions. It was almost noon when he fell silent, staring down at the table.

"So now you know," his hand tightened around his cane and he stood abruptly. He was going to run, she knew it, and hide from her and the anger he thought she would feel. With a sigh she stood and walked around the table, looping her arm through his.

"Let's go for a walk," she whispered as she led him towards the front door.

"No, Belle -" she gave him a stern look and continued walking. "At least put some shoes and a coat on," he said, knowing that he would never be able to argue with her.

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"So, everyone here has a different name, with no memory of who they are," they were walking through the park and Belle was asking all kinds of questions. Now she was trying to get used to seeing people that she used to know pass by her like complete strangers. "What's your name here?" She turned to Rumple, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"It's Gold," he answered.

"Gold," she let the name roll off of her tongue, stretching it out carefully. A playful smirk lit up her eyes. "Fitting, but I like Rumplestiltskin better."

"I prefer it as well, but it doesn't exactly work in this world, now does it?"

"No, I suppose not," Belle fell silent for a moment. "Do you know what my name is here?"

Rumple didn't answer her right away, and when Belle looked at him, he had a pensive look in his eyes. "No."

"You know something," she stopped and turned to face him. "Rum, whatever it is, you won't be able to hide it from me forever. You might as well just tell me now."

"I don't know what your first name is, dearie, but I imagine that your last name is French." His eyes slid away from hers. "Since that is your father's last name here."

_Ah, so that's why you didn't want to say anything._

Belle led him to one of the benches that lined the path they were on and sat down beside him. Rumple was avoiding meeting her eyes, instead staring off into the distance. She decided to leave him be for a few minutes while she gathered her thoughts. There was obviously something that had happened between him and her father, and it was serious, that much she could tell. Rumplestiltskin's shoulders were tense, and he was trying to pull away from her, which was difficult since she had laced her fingers through his. He was waiting for her to ask what had happened, but she wouldn't, not today.

She clasped his hand in both of her own and looked around at the others in the park. Everyone was staring at them. Well, not everyone, but almost everyone. Some were trying to be discreet, while others were more obvious, and all looked at them with varying degrees of disgust, fear, and horror. Now that she thought about it, Belle realized that people had been looking at them the entire time they'd been out walking.

_Even now_, she thought, _they still fear him. I suppose …_ she looked back at him, with his carefully blank expression, _he's still the dealmaker, despite everything that's happened._ Finally, he turned and met her eyes.

"Let's go home," she said softly.

"You don't have to stay with me, dearie," he whispered. "You can go wherever you'd like. Start a new life for yourself and find happiness." He turned away again, and glared at a small group who had gathered and was obviously talking about them. "All you'll find with me is misery."

"I said that I'd go with you forever, and I meant it," the conviction in her voice seemed to surprise him. "Now get up, and let's go home. I have more cleaning to do, and I'm sure you have something that you're supposed to be doing today." He watched her for a moment, not able to believe that she would willingly stay, then slowly nodded and stood. Belle looped her arm through his and they started walking again.

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The next day, Belle had almost finished cleaning the upstairs rooms, having meticulously dusted and scrubbed and polished until everything looked brand new. She descended the stairs, going over her mental list of chores still left to be done. Rumplestiltskin made it clear that he didn't expect her to clean, or cook, or do anything like she had been told to do while in the Dark Castle, to which she'd replied rather exasperatedly, if she didn't clean then no one else would and they'd be up to their ears in dust and dirt by the end of the week and _honestly_ how could he stand it all these years? After this exchange he'd done his best to stay out of her way whenever she had any sort of cleaning equipment in her hands.

Upon entering the kitchen, she was surprised to find the table already set and dinner waiting for her. Rumple hastily stood from his seat and moved around the table to pull out a chair for her. Belle laughed and gave him a quick curtsy before taking her seat.

"Why, thank you, kind sir. What's the occasion?" her eyes roamed over the table where a feast had been laid out.

"It was the least I could do after all of your hard work," he was watching her out of the corner of his eye, and she smiled wider. It reminded her of times at the Castle, when he would do something for her and pretend that it was nothing. "So, Belle," she heard the slight quaver in his voice when he said her name and looked up at him, "I've noticed you haven't taken the curtains down yet. I was expecting them to be the first things to go when you began your little cleaning rampage."

"I thought about it," she narrowed her eyes at him, "but I was afraid that I'd find them nailed down again."

A few seconds passed while he studied her, that wicked smirk spreading across his face. "No, I haven't nailed them down."

"Oh? Well then I'll open them tomorrow," she gave him a sunny smile and began serving both of them. He chuckled before mumbling something under his breath. "What?"

"Nothing, my dear." He smiled reassuringly, and she decided to let it go, but there was something in that grin that made her wonder if maybe he did have some magic hidden up his sleeve in this world, after all.

After dinner Belle found a book in the study that looked interesting and curled up in front of the fireplace to read. She could feel Rumple watching her, and when she looked up she saw that he still had that devilish smirk.

"I think I'll turn in for the night, dearie. Don't stay up to late." She nodded and went back to her book while he went upstairs to his room. Belle looked up at the heavy curtains covering the windows. _First thing in the morning, they're all coming down_, she told herself.

She stood and stretched, then laid the book down on the coffee table and made her way to her room. Halfway up the stairs, she wondered again what it was that he had mumbled at dinner. It had almost sounded like _nails are so old fashioned_, but that was ridiculous. She shook her head and stopped worrying about it.

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Belle was up bright and early the next day, dressed in jeans and a long forest green shirt. When she came downstairs she expected to find Rumple in the kitchen, like she had the past two mornings, but he wasn't there. It is rather early, she thought, he must still be asleep. _I'll make breakfast for both of us once I take all of these blasted curtains down._ Satisfied with her plan, she turned on her heel and went into the living room.

Taking hold of the edge of one of the curtains, Belle pulled it aside. It didn't move. She pulled harder, and still the fabric refused to shift. _That's odd … but I don't see any nails … maybe it's just this one._ Belle moved to one of the other windows and tried again. Five minutes later she had tried every curtain on every window at least three times, and not one had come down. There were no nails holding them in place, she had checked them just to be sure, because she had a sneaking suspicion that he had done something to hold them down while she was sleeping, just for mischief's sake. It didn't make any sense, there was nothing there that would explain why they wouldn't move.

She was back in the living room glaring at the windows with her hands on her hips. _I will not be defeated so easily_, she thought as her anger and frustration grew. An idea came to her suddenly and she marched into the kitchen.

It wasn't long after that that Rumple came downstairs and found her hard at work, hacking away at the curtains with a kitchen knife. He took a step back and watched with wide eyes.

"I don't know what magic you used to keep these closed, Rumplestiltskin, but I must say, it is impressive," she hadn't turned away from her task, so she didn't see the grin settle into place. "I doubt I'll ever be able to get these bits of fabric off," she gestured to what used to be the outer edges of the curtain, now reduced to shreds clinging to the walls.

"Superglue is rather efficient, my dear," she looked at him over her shoulder. "Much better than nails." His expression was a mix of disbelief and amusement, and it was obvious that he was quite pleased with himself. "I never expected you to be so violent over a little sunshine. If I had known this would be your solution, I would have hid the knives," he walked off and she was left standing alone, while it dawned on her that, had she attempted to remove the curtains the day before, it would have been much easier.

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Several hours later, Belle had finished freeing the windows of the heavy fabric, stubbornly ignoring any suggestions that Rumplestiltskin made on how to remove the scraps that remained. Now she was stretched out on the couch, basking in the sun while she read her book. She was so engrossed in the story that she didn't hear when the doorbell rang, or when Rumple opened the door to greet the person. She wasn't distracted from her story until she heard a woman's raised voice.

"Look, Gold, I'm just doing my job. Regina's been harassing me for three days now." Belle laid her book down on the coffee table and quietly made her way down the hall to a point where she could see the front door. Rumple was standing in the doorway, blocking an annoyed blonde woman from entering.

"That's very interesting, Sheriff, but I'm afraid you're looking in the wrong place. There is nothing here that belongs to our dear mayor, you have my word," he was trying to get her to leave, closing the door in her face, but the woman wouldn't have it. She stuck her booted foot in the door and forced it open again. "Ms. Swan," Rumplestiltskin's voice had dropped dangerously low, in a way that Belle had heard only a few times before, and she wondered how the woman could stand there without cringing.

"Mr. Gold, I found you wandering around town four days ago, and the next morning Regina was calling me every five minutes because she had 'lost something' and she 'needed it back immediately.' She sounded like she had been up all night, and she was demanding help from law enforcement with her search," Belle watched Rumple's shoulders tense, and she thought the blonde did, too. "She was very insistent that you not find out about this, but she refused to tell me what it is that she's lost. Now she seems convinced that you've found whatever it is, and you're hiding it."

Belle could see that this situation was about to escalate by the way Rumple stood, glaring stonily at the woman. She understood now what was happening. The queen had noticed her escape and was trying to keep her away from him. It was actually a bit surprising that it had taken this long for someone to come looking for her here.

"Ms. Swan -"

"I don't even care anymore!" the blonde ran a hand through her hair. "The two of you have some weird rivalry going on and I'd rather not be caught up in it. All I want to know is, what the hell did Regina lose that's got her in such a panic?

Belle decided that this might be a good time to intervene. "If the mayor has lost something," she said calmly as she stepped up behind him, peering over his shoulder, "it's not here. You're welcome to come in and take a look around." She elbowed Rumple when he tried to protest. The woman - Ms. Swan? - stared at her, then slowly raised an eyebrow and turned her gaze to Rumple. He stared back, daring her to comment.

No, that's okay. I think I'll head back to the station," she looked back and forth between them again.

"Are you sure?" Belle saw Ms. Swan's lips twitch, like she was hiding a smile.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Whatever Regina lost, I think she'll be fine without it," she took a moment to study Belle, who gave her a reassuring smile, "but I'd stay out of her way for a while, if I were you."

"Thank you for the advice," Rumple said with forced politeness. "Good day, Ms. Swan." This time she didn't stop him when he closed the door. He turned and looked at her still tense. "It seems that her majesty is on the hunt, my dear. We'll have to keep you hidden. No more walks in the park for a while." He kept his voice low so it didn't carry to the other side of the door.

Belle moved over to one of the windows and looked out so that she could watch Ms. Swan walk back to her car. She was shaking her head and glancing back at the door every few steps, clearly trying to piece together what had just happened. "You don't think she'll tell anyone where I am, do you?" she shivered and looked away, trying to hide the fear she now felt over the possibility of the queen coming after her again.

Rumplestiltskin approached her slowly, hesitating for an instant before he reached out and pulled her into a hug. "You are safe here," he murmured against her hair. "No one will separate us again.

Belle sighed and relaxed against him. "Promise?"

"I promise, Belle."

"Good," she let herself enjoy his embrace for another minute, then stepped back and looked him in the eyes. "Now, I believe you had some paperwork you were complaining about, and I'd really like to finish my book." With that she left him in the front hall and returned to the living room.

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Three days later, Belle came downstairs to find Rumple standing by the door as he put on his coat. When she asked where he was going he told her that he needed to check on his shop and a few things around town.

"Can't have the citizens of Storybrooke wondering if I've disappeared. They'll think they can stop paying their rent," he grinned at her and opened the door.

"Wait!" she grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving, "Let me come with you!"

"I thought we'd agreed that you need to stay out of sight while Regina is looking for you," he said. "There's a good chance that she'll see you if you're walking around town with me."

"I'll stay in the shop while you go talk to whoever you need to see. Please, I need to get out of the house for a little while, and this way you'll be there in case anything happens." She stared at him with wide, pleading eyes, a look that he had never been able to argue with in the past, and this time was no exception.

"Very well," he relented and she ran to get her shoes.

The walk to the shop was uneventful, and they were inside before anyone saw them. Belle wandered through the room examining all of the trinkets that lined the shelves and frowned at the dust. It wasn't nearly as bad as his house had been, but it was still unacceptable.

"I know what I'll be doing today," she laughed and looked at Rumple, who stood behind the counter watching her. "Honestly, Rum, this is unacceptable for a business."

"I'm sure you'll have it up to parr in no time, dearie," his eyes shone with laughter, "and it would probably be best if you called me Mr. Gold while we're outside of the house."

She rolled her eyes at this and went over to him. "If you insist. Now, where have you stashed the cleaning supplies?"

An hour later, he had told her he needed to go collect some of the money that different ones owed him, and check to see that others weren't trying to shirk on their ends of the deals they had made with him.

"Only someone very foolish would try to cheat on a deal with you," she said as she rearranged some of the objects on the shelf she had just dusted.

"Yes, well, you'd be surprised how many fools there are in this town," he grumbled as he pushed open the door. "I won't be gone long. If any one comes tell them to come back later." She nodded and moved on to the next shelf. By the time she looked up he was gone.

About ten minutes later, Belle had made her way towards the front window, and found a pair of gruesome looking puppets. She frowned and poked one of them with the end of the duster. She's always hated seeing them in the Dark Castle, hated their twisted faces and the way their eyes seemed to follow her around the room. _I wonder if he would believe that I accidentally dropped a sledge hammer on them … probably not. _While she was busy thinking of unfortunate ends for the puppets, someone opened the door to the shop. The sound of the bell made her jump, and she turned to find a man walking in, his eyes searching the room until he saw her. An easy smile settled on his face, and she felt herself smiling in return.

"I'm sorry, Ru- er, Mr. Gold isn't here right now. If you come back later he should be able to help you."

"That's alright, I just wanted to see how you're adjusting." Belle narrowed her eyes at this statement, and looked at him uneasily. "It must be very different from what you're used to, all this," he nodded towards the street that was visible through the window.

"I don't know what you mean," she said carefully. _What does he know?_ They stared at each other for a few seconds, before he looked out at the street.

"Just don't let her lock you up again," he said gently, then turned and left.

Belle watched him cross the street to a motorcycle and drive away. She didn't know what to think about what he had said, because every word had made her more sure that he knew what had really happened. And a part of her believed that maybe, just maybe, he had had something to do with her escape from the hospital.

It took some time before she could make herself get back to work, the hated puppets forgotten for the time being.

|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|~O~|

It was close to half an hour later when Rumplestiltskin finally returned. Belle was balanced precariously on a step stool that she had found in the back room so that she could reach the upper portions of the large unicorn mobile that hung in the shop. She ran the duster over the little figures, admiring the way they reflected the light and seemed to shine. Leaning forward a bit more, she reached out to touch one of them. That's when the stool started to tip over, and with a shriek she tumbled off of it and into Rumple's arms.

They stared at each other for a moment before she stepped back, blushing. "Thank you, I," she looked up at the mobile, "I guess I should know by now that heights don't agree with me."

"You are a bit clumsy, dear," he agreed with a hint of a smile as he moved towards the back room. "Just be glad that I was here to catch you."

_Yes_, she thought, _no matter what happens, or what world we're in, you'll always be there to catch me, won't you? That's one of those little things that will never change._

She smiled and followed him into the back room. _So much is different here, but those few little things will always be the same. And that's really all that matters, isn't it? Because it is, after all, the little things that count._


End file.
